


The Bet

by Beatleslover2005



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bets & Wagers, Dirty Talk, Emotions, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Forehead Kisses, I Don't Even Know, I Love You, Idiots in Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Sherlock, Reader-Insert, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock is a Brat, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Top Sherlock, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatleslover2005/pseuds/Beatleslover2005
Summary: "The art of seduction isnt that difficult, John. People think in the same way as primitive animals do, starting a relationship is as simplistic as those crosswords you enjoy doing in the papers. I could do it in my sleep." There was confidence in his voice as he turned back to straightening things, his hands skimming over the table as the other man chuckled with a shake of his head. "I can see that you doubt my abilities, but I'm willing to make a wager with you that I can sway (Y/n) over by the end of the night."John's eyebrows quirked up in amusement as he sighed. "A bet? Isnt that...childish?""It's simply a...Game of sorts. A way to see who is correct, though, it is clear that I will be correct."
Relationships: John Watson & Reader, Sherlock Holmes & Reader, Sherlock Holmes/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 77





	1. Lets Make A Bet

"He's a loud-mouthed, cocky, arrogant show off who only cares about himself and his damn cases. He has no friends, ignores his family, and is a complete bastard."

John's eyes flickered over to you as his eyebrow cocked upward, the small smile on his face only widening as you angrily flopped against the church. "And yet?"

"........Dont make me say it, John."

"I dont believe it any more then you do (Y/n), but its quite clear you like him." Just the word was enough to make you cringe in disgust, the idea of liking a man such as  _ Sherlock  _ so  _ unbelievable _ you wanted to punch John just for suggesting it.

Yet, you knew he was right. It didn't take much to see how much your infatuation for him grew, the only people who seemed not to notice was the man in question and yourself. Well, maybe he did notice, but he certainly said nothing about it.

Perhaps that was the oddest thing of all. If there was one thing Sherlock enjoyed, it was exposing people's secrets, yet he made no show to embarrass you for your silly crush. It couldn't have been sympathy or any other feeling like that. No, Sherlock didn't feel those things. It had to be through some form of logical thinking.

As your mind drifted off into why you felt this way and why he hadn't told anyone, John continued to sip his tea while flipping through the paper casually, his eyes skimming over the pages as the fireplace crackled nearby. 

For once, it was a peaceful evening, with Sherlock out with Ms.Hudson and John having the night off, you got to spend the night with some quiet company. Since you worked with Sherlock, if he didn't have a case, you didn't either.

Silently you lifted your phone and glared at the screen, the bright light making your eyes sore as you flipped up the screen saver to open up the seven new messages from Sherlock. The audible groan you gave made John chuckle and look back over at you.

"What did he say now?"

"Asked me to clear out the fridge, Molly got him a few new parts to experiment with after dinner. He also wants me to make dinner. " John gave another laugh as you tiredly sighed. "He acts like I'm his bloody wife, clean this and cook that, get me my tea (Y/n), you know I dont like when you start breakfast without me."

"I have explained this to you many times that eating alone is extremely undesirable to me. The eggs get cold if you eat before I do, and we both finish at the same time if we start together. If you are going to sit around, ignoring my orders while complaining, you can leave." The door slammed shut behind Sherlock as he strode in, your body instantly tense as he moved past with a few grocery bags in hand.

The contents were almost overfilling the bags as you quickly hopped up to help him with it. Your hands brushed against his as you heaved the bag to your body, his eyes flickering over to watch as you slowly brought it over to the messy kitchen table.

"I didn't see your messages until now. Besides, I dont even live with you, why should I clean up all your messes?"

"You spend most of your days here helping me work. I dont pay you to sit around gossiping with John over the newest secretary at your work that is obviously sleeping with your boss. Besides, I'm quite sure there isnt anything better you could be doing with your time." There was a hint of challenge in his voice as you started to rearrange the papers scattered around. Even though you knew it was what he wanted, a part of you was begging to say something about how you could be spending your time.

Of course, it wasnt like you  _ didn't _ have other things to do. You could undoubtedly catch up on some of your loaned books, finish up cleaning the bathroom at your flat, John and Mary were supposed to go out with you to see one of the latest shows. There was an entire LIST of shows you needed to watch.

It wasnt as if Sherlock didn't know these things either. He would be the only person to know how many things could come before cleaning his mess, yet here he was starting up yet another argument with you for no reason other then it amused him.

Glancing over at him, you watched as he opened up the fridge and pulled out a large glass jar from the plastic bag, his eyes squinted as he twisted it around in the light. "Just because I work for you doesn't make me your cleaning lady."

"What exactly is it you do again?" You gritted your teeth as he settled the jar into the freezer, his hand patting the lid before slamming shut the door. "John, go buy more milk."

"Weren't you just at the shop with Ms.Hudson?"

"It wasnt on the list. There wasnt enough room for the milk and the head, just go get it, John."

"Fine, Fine. Let me grab my coat..." John's voice drifted off from the front room as Sherlock turned to face you. 

His eyes slowly followed along as you unpacked the groceries and continued to tidy up the table, the tips of his fingers tapping against his thigh while you tried your best to remain calm. It was best just to avoid Sherlock as much as possible. The two of you were less likely to argue if you shut your mouth, but it wasnt like Sherlock to stay quiet, so the silence was short-lived.

He walked behind you with an air of casualty, your body almost close enough that he could feel your breath fanning against your bare neck as he reached forward to grab a stack of papers from your hands. "You're putting things in the wrong place. Dont touch my things."

"I thought you wanted me to clean?"

"Yes, but I want you to clean things as **_ I _ ** do." Moving the papers away, he reached around with his other hand, palm resting over your side as he leaned down to brush his nose along the curve of your jaw slowly. "You bought new perfume."

"I did."

"...You haven't had a boyfriend in months, and with work taking most of your time, it would be unwise to see other men. Most of your family is too far to visit or is on unstable conditions with you."

"That is...correct."

"But you aren't wearing the perfume for yourself, no, you wouldn't do something so trivial to increase your self-pride. You're wearing it because you knew I would notice." Moving in closer, he sniffed carefully at your neck. "It isnt any regular perfume. This is the scent worn by the last victim from our case. A woman killed during intercourse with her husband."

Your eyes fluttered closed as you hummed in agreement, his nose continuing to sniff at your neck while you moved your hands over his. The slender digits of his hands pushed open so you could intertwine yours with his. "A stab wound to the chest. You remember."

"Of course I do, I remember all my cases. Is there something you want to imply with this, or was this simply a test of my wit? I assure you, this was no hard puzzle to try and solve. I'm disappointed that you would think such easy bafflement as this would distract me from-"

Before he could finish, John was entering through the door, eyes widening in surprise as you shrugged your hands away from Sherlock and continued to pick up papers with a pleasant hum. How had he not noticed him until now? It was like John to get distracted like this...Maybe you had distracted him more then he considered.

Looking over at John, he frowned, gaze hardening as the two stared each other down while you rested your head against Sherlock's chest for a few moments.

John pointed over to his leather wallet on the counter. "I...I forgot my wallet."

"That much is obvious." Sherlock coldly responded as you squirmed out of his arms, the smile on your face wide as you passed by John. His face relaxed slightly when you were out of sight, mind already shifting to another thought as John looked where you were standing and where Sherlock still was. 

"Did I interrupt something-"

"Dont you have milk to be buying? Why are you still here, you have your wallet dont you?"

"I was just asking, Sherlock. It isnt every day you walk in on your best friend sniffing a girl's neck. It's even odder when your friend happens to be someone like you." The room became silent for a few moments as the two stared quietly, John's arms crossed over his chest while the other man went over what he said.

There was some truth in what he said, but was it really so weird that he was showing intimacy with you? As far as Sherlock knew, what just happened could be considered as intimacy. Most people showed affection with close contact, so it shouldn't be odd that, in a sense, he was deepening his relationship with you. You were his employee, and dare he say, a close friend.

But on another side of things, maybe that's why John saw it as weird. He wasnt most people. It wasnt like Sherlock to act friendly with people, let alone someone who could be considered more of a tool to him than an actual human being. Sherlock never wanted affection or anything close to the human emotion of love. To start showing it now would be out of character.

Of course, it could also be said that the proximity was merely him deducing what you were trying to imply towards him so subtly, but it was unlikely John would take such a thing as an answer.

Nothing was more childish then common thinking. 

"You're implying that I cant establish a healthy relationship with (Y/n) because I dont think as you do. Because I'm not...' human.' But if anything, I'm more likely to have a relationship with her because of this. Nothing fascinates more someone like (Y/n) then the abnormalities in ordinary life. What would a woman want more in a relationship then excitement?"

"Sherlock, I consider you one of my closest friends, but god are you oblivious when it comes to woman."

"The art of seduction isnt that difficult, John. People think in the same way as primitive animals do, starting a relationship is as simplistic as those crosswords you enjoy doing in the papers. I could do it in my sleep." There was confidence in his voice as he turned back to straightening things, his hands skimming over the table as the other man chuckled with a shake of his head. "I can see that you doubt my abilities, but I'm willing to make a wager with you that I can sway (Y/n) over by the end of the night."

John's eyebrows quirked up in amusement as he sighed. "A bet? Isnt that...childish?"

"It's simply a...Game of sorts. A way to see who is correct, though, it is clear that I will be correct."

"And what do I get if I win?"

"I'll get the milk for a month, and I won't call you past 9 o'clock for any cases I might get." John smiled slightly with a wave of his hand. "And...I'll pay for you and Mary to spend a weekend out of town."

"Ok, you got a deal, Sherlock. You have until tonight."

With a smile, Sherlock reached forward and gingerly shook his hand with a boyish look of excitement. "The game is on, Watson."


	2. Emotions Are A Confusing Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a quick little one shot yet here I am, dividing it into multiple chapters like a dumb ass. They are short enough to put into one but I think it flows better when I divide it into a few different chapters.

"It's clear that the brother is having an affair with her, how naive do they think the audience is? Anyone with half a brain could see that he will make a return in the next season."

"I dont know Sherlock, didn't the brother die last season? It would be a gamble bringing him back, considering the fact he made that deal with what's his face. That would imply he didn't in fact die but instead...what, faked his death? I guess you would be the person to know about that most, but it's still implausible." The look on Sherlocks face shifted to annoyance when you smirked over at him, the TV shining different colors across his face as you tapped your fingertips against the couch arm. 

Glancing back at the TV, you stared in silence as Sherlock continued to watch you, his eyes flickering over you before he finally broke the quietness. "You're mother is coming by next week."

"Ten bucks says that guy won't make it to season 5."

"Season 4."

"Mm, no. That would be way too soon to introduce and then kill someone off. Season 5 or 6."

"You're avoiding the question, (Y/n)." Your eyes finally returned to his face with a sigh. There was a questioning look on his face as you leaned forward, elbows resting on top of your knees as you wordlessly gazed into his eyes.

For a few silent moments, he considered telling you about his silly bet with John. It would be more respectful if he mentioned his intentions for the rest of the night. Still, something about your gentle eyes and tired expression made him freeze up, the silence knawing away at the questions inside his mind that nagged to spill out into a fountain of words.

It wasnt often something made Sherlock shut his mouth.

Tiredly you looked away, eyes flickering over to the TV before moving to the fireplace mantel. "I thought I told you about this a few days ago. I suppose it makes sense for you to forget, though...Wasnt that important."

"I didn't forget." The confession made you cock up an eyebrow as he blinked slowly. There was an unreadable look on his face as you swallowed thickly and looked away quickly. "I merely enjoy hearing you talk. Your voice is...favorable."

"Did you just compliment me?"

"You seem surprised. I understand you think that I'm unable to be courteous, but I am still unfortunately human. Now, your mother, why dont you want her to come?"

The pleasant compliment had you smiling softly, your shoulders less tense, and the stress of mentioning your mother far less extreme when Sherlock gave you a slight smirk back. It was always nice seeing him smile since it was so rare for him to do it. "Well...My mother has held me to pretty high standards since I was a child. My older brother became a doctor, my sister, a lawyer...it all just added to what she wanted me to be. You could imagine her shock when I told her that I was moving in with an eccentric, incredible genius of a detective and his doctor best friend in a flat halfway across the city."

The compliments made him snort slightly as you grinned sheepishly.

"I dont suppose she was quite pleased when she met me either."

"Oh God was she pissed off. It didn't help that you brought up the divorce. I dont think she's forgiven you for that little quip." The two of you gently laughed as Sherlock moved forward, the smile on his face genuine as you shook your head softly. When you caught your breath, the smile slightly wavered, your eyes turning semi sad. You raked a hand through your unruly hair with a shake of your head. "Yeah...Well, lately she's been nagging me about settling down and such. You know...Getting married, having kids, annoying things like that. It's not that I dont  _ want  _ to get married, either."

Sherlock tilted his head and reached forward, his fingers brushing against yours as you sighed. "................."

"I just feel like its too soon, I mean, I just started my career. Besides, I haven't even met a guy that I could even  **_ consider _ ** a husband. The only guy close enough to husband material would be...Greg."

"Greg?"

"Lestrade."

"Oh, right...Lestrade." The name rolled off Sherlock's tongue with slight disgust, his hand tensing ever so slightly as you looked up at him. Silently, he intertwined your hand with his and gazed into your eyes with a sigh. "There...isnt anyone else you would consider?"

It wasnt an odd question, yet you couldn't help flushing in surprise at the slight suggestion in his voice. Did he...did he mean himself? Did he want you to say his name instead of Lestrade's?

The thought made you furrow your eyebrows and consider what to say next. I mean, you had contemplated dating Sherlock and even...marrying him. Of course, Sherlock already knew about your feelings for him, so even asking you was suspicious. Did he want you to  _ say  _ it to him? No, why would he want that? 

Sherlock made as much sense as those weird sitcoms John insisted on watching.

"I mean...Well, there was someone else. But he already knows how I feel. It would be silly to try and ask him out or mention it. If he already knows and hasn't said anything about it, he must not be interested."

"That makes no sense."

"Neither does love, but emotions are a confusing thing. I would rather pretend that we are just friends then ruin it with my ridiculous crush. A girlfriend or wife isnt what he needs right now." Your voice trailed off to a whisper as he looked down, staring at your intertwined hands. Swallowing thickly, you forced a smile. "As long as I'm by his side, supporting him, that's ok with me. I dont care if my mom thinks that its time I get married. I have an eccentric, incredible genius of a detective and his doctor best friend to take care of, plus several sitcoms I need to catch up on. Dating can wait."

Your hand finally slipped from his as he looked up, gaze intense as you looked away at the TV. As the lights moved over your face, he couldn't help noting the twinge of sadness in your eyes, the melancholy of your smile that didn't reach your eyes, the few strands of hair that framed your face as your cheeks flushed from the heat emanating out of the fireplace. The lighting added an unearthly glow to your expression as he inhaled deeply, the sight enough to take his breath away.

You were right.

Emotions were a confusing thing.


	3. JOHN WOULD YOU PLEASE LEAVE. YOU'RE VOICE IS IRRITATING ME

A knock on the door took you out of your thoughts as Sherlock continued to gaze into his microscope, his hands fiddling on the knobs as you set your book aside and stood up. Before you could reach for the door, it was swinging open, John's head popping in as the wood slammed into your face.

"Oh! I'm sorry (Y/n). I didn't think you would be there!" He set down the carton of milk to step around the door and grab your face, his fingers moving over your features as you held your now bleeding nose. "Blimey, you're bleeding all over the place! Let's get you into the bathroom. I think I left a first Aid kit there from when I still lived here."

'"I-I'm fine John. Just a blood nose-"

"Would you please stop touching her? You're a married man for god's sake, John. It's distracting when you try to feel up my assistant feebly." Sherlock's annoyed voice made you stare at him in shock. John's face flushed a bright red as the detective looked up with a frown, his eyes flickering between you holding your bleeding nose and John trying to explain himself pathetically. Standing up, he quickly strode over and yanked you away from John protectively. "I'll take her to the first aid kit. I moved it since you moved out, so you wouldn't have been able to find it either way. Come along (Y/n)."

With a sad smile, John lifted the jugs of milk and sighed. "I...I guess you have a point. I'll just set these in the fridge of head off."

"Try not to engage any more innocent bystanders on your way out. I won't be there to fix up every person you happen to give a bleeding nose, and I question that Mary would want to discover you were touching up some more victims to your cluelessness."

"Geez Sherlock, I was just trying to make sure she didn't break her nose. I wasnt trying to grope her-"

"Guys, nose? Bleeding?" You pointed up at your hand covered in the thick liquid, the two stopping their bickering to stare at you silently. Sherlock wrapped one arm around your waist, his other moved to tilt your head back and the pinch at the bridge of your nose.

"Keep your head back. It will help stop the blood flow if you keep your head tilted at a 35-degree angle and apply pressure to your nose's bridge. Try to breathe through your mouth, Love." The nickname slipped out as you glanced over at him, your eyebrows raising as he frowned. "What?"

You shook your head quickly and looked away. "Nothing! Just uh...thinking."

"You gave me an odd look. Is it something I said?"

"No! No, I just uh, zoned out-" In your state of distraction, you rammed into the bathroom door, pain shooting through your body as Sherlock went wide-eyed and pulled you to his chest. "HOLY FUCK!"

"Is everything alright-"

"JOHN WOULD YOU PLEASE LEAVE; YOU'RE VOICE IS IRRITATING ME." Sherlock shot him down before he could try and say anything else. A few tears slipped from your face as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the blood only flowing faster as he stroked your hair. "Shh shh shh, its alright, Love. Keep your head tilted, breathe through the mouth, and let me take care of the blood. I'll have to grab you an extra shirt."

You whimpered out against but let him carefully move towards the door and swing it open, his arms still looped around you to keep you from wandering out of his grasp. The blood flowed slower do to the tilt in your head and pressure on your nose, but it still coated your hands in a thick and sticky coat, a few drops falling onto your once clean shirt while Sherlock continued to tenderly stroke your hair with one hand.

Through your pained haze, you settled down onto the toilet seat, his arms leaving your waist to reach up above the bathroom mirror and pull down a small box that was overflowing with already opened bandaids and nicotine patches. 

You knew about him trying to quit smoking, but this was ridiculous.

He threw the scraps aside before grabbing a clean cloth and wetting it under the sinks water stream. Looking over, he gave a small smile at the pout on your face. "I can clean up the blood for now, but you should keep a piece of tissue to your nose until the bleeding ceases. If it doesn't stop after around 15 minutes, we should take you to the hospital. I dont trust John to treat you."

"I dont think its that bad, Sherlock."

"You never can be too sure when it comes to your safety. I wouldn't want anything to happen to my partner. We can't have you getting a concussion or worse, now can we?" He turned and gently grabbed your hand, the cloth quickly replaced it as you let him hold your wrist up to keep the blood from smearing anymore. "Keep your head back."

Connecting eyes with him, you smiled gently and sighed. "Thank you..."

"You're welcome (Y/n)."

"I'm serious, Sherlock. You dont have to do any of this stuff for me, but you've been really nice today. I guess you aren't as much of an asshole as I thought." The insult made him huff and let go of your face. The sudden lack of holding you made you fall forward, your hand jerking up to grab the cloth as he went to grab cleaning supplies for your bloody face. "H-Hey! Warn me next time!"

"You should've expected me to let go. I can't sit holding your face forever, and you knew I would grab more things to clean that blood off of your hands. Stay still and keep your-"

"Keep my head back, I know."

"....Good. Lift." Moving the cloth, you let him wipe up your upper lip and down your jaw, his fingers soft through the thin fabric as you slowly shut your eyes and leaned closer. 

The tips of his fingers brushed past your lips as he moved closer. There was a look of peace on your face, your lips parting to kiss his finger when they brushed over your mouth, and a pleased hum resonated through your chest when he chuckled softly.

Before you could open your eyes again, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a few moments before he pulled back.

Your eyes fluttered back open as he stared down at you. The two of you shared a breath, your warmth mingling with his as you looked down at his mouth and swallowed. "Hi..."

"Hello."

"Um...I...Do you come here often?" The look on his face instantly fell as you chuckled. "What?"

"You are, by far, the most ignorant person I know."

"Hey! I thought Anderson held that title?"

"I changed my mind. After that retort, you are now the stupidest person in the city." There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice that made you chuckle as he moved the cloths onto the sink counter. Looking down, he grabbed the hem of your shirt and inched it up. "You have blood all over you, ill grab a spare sleep shirt from John's old room."

Flushing slightly, you nodded and lifted your arms for him, the fabric rasing over your body before he tossed it behind the door. The cold air made your skin bump up as he stared down at you, his eyes flickering around your almost bare chest with an unreadable look. "Are you going to stand there and gawk at me, or are you going to go get that shirt before I freeze to death?"

"It's improbable that you would freeze to death by the time I finished my 'gawking.' Besides, you only wear that bra when you are in a good mood with me or suspect that you might be seen in it. Since you haven't had someone over in the past three months, it would be logical to assume the person you wanted to view the article would be me. This also explains your dilated pupils in the last few minutes, the increase in your heart rate, that adorable flush in your cheeks and the fact you've been playing with that string coming from your jeans since we entered the room." Leaning forward, he smirked cockily and reached down to press a hand to your knee. "So, next time you want me to stop gawking at you, maybe you shouldn't wear something so _lewd_ for me to see."

His warm touch left your knee as he turned to the door, his expression already shifted back to its generic bored look as you tried to get your breathing steady. There had been a hint of something darker in his voice, a type of suggestion that you wouldn't have expected from the detective, but a lot of things happened today that you hadn't expected.

When the door closed behind him, you lowered your head against your knees, chest heaving as you thought about that look in his eyes...the way his voice dropped into such a suggestive tone...how his lips had lingered just inches from your and how his warm breath combined with yours...

"DAMN IT, WHY IS HE SO HOT?!?!"


End file.
